Family Ties
by N'kala
Summary: Someone wants revenge on Jeff Tracy, and plans on using Alan to get it.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Family Ties  
Author: N'kala  
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.  
Summary: Movieverse. Someone wants revenge on Jeff Tracy and plans on using Alan to get it.  
Author's Notes: My muse is back! I got to thinking about the family sitch, and I realized I could find next to nothing about Lucille Tracy. Everything that happens from here on out is strictly AU, so canon followers beware! 

**Family Ties  
Chapter One**

Leaves whispered quietly as a gentle breeze swept across the sleepy campus of Wharton Academy. The old Massachusetts school was lit dimly by several lamp posts placed strategically about the campus, but in the early hours of the morning it was left mostly in shadows. In the dormitories, the students who attended the prestigious school slept on, unaware of the three dark shapes making their way silently across the grounds.

The three figures were all about the same height, and all were clad in black clothes and black ski masks. They moved swiftly and surely, their destination set firmly in their minds.

Not a sound was made as the three entered one of the newer dormitories on campus. Bypassing the security locks had been child's play; they had been planning this mission for some time now. As one, the trio moved through the dimly lit halls.

Pausing outside of one door, one figure effortlessly bypassed the room's security locks and pushed the door open. The three filed into the room and shut the door slightly, leaving it ajar. They would need a quick escape once they obtained their goal.

Two boys slept peacefully in the only two beds in the room. With a quick glance to one another, one man moved to the left, where a small boy with dark hair lay. They wouldn't need this child, but he would have to be restrained while they made their escape.

His two companions hovered over the boy sleeping on the right. His blond hair was in disarray, some falling into his eyes. With a final nod to his companions, the first man reached out and clamped a hand down firmly over the blond boy's mouth.

* * *

Alan Tracy wasn't sure what was happening. One minute, he was soaring through the air in the cockpit of Thunderbird One, racing to rescue a town from an impending flood. The next, two dark figures were standing over him, holding him down.

Fear seized Alan's heart, and he began to thrash against the men's restraining hands. Who were these men? What did they want?

He twisted around, trying to see if Fermat was all right. Unfortunately, the strange men in their room blocked his view of his best friend.

"Do it already!" the man holding Alan down hissed.

Alan felt a sharp stab of pain in his neck, and he released a cry that was muffled against the hand over his mouth. Almost immediately, his vision began to swim. His struggles abated.

"About time!" the second man hissed, straightening. Alan felt the restraining hands fall away and tried to move, but found that his limbs were too heavy. Panic swept through him, making his heart race.

The two men retreated for a moment, moving over near Fermat's bed. Alan managed to move his head to his right, wondering about his friend's safety.

A third man in black was just moving away from Fermat. The young boy was lying in his bed, bound and gagged. Fermat's wide eyes met Alan's; his fear was palpable.

Darkness was swimming on the edges of Alan's vision, but he fought against it. He couldn't fall asleep; if he did, he wouldn't be able to protect himself.

Not that he was any use now, Alan realized when another attempt to move an arm failed. He froze as the three men turned to him.

"Why isn't he asleep yet?" the second man whispered.

"He's fighting the drug," the first man answered. He moved closer. "Go to sleep, Alan. It'll be okay."

As Alan succumbed to the crashing waves of darkness, a thought floated to the forefront of his mind. _How does he know my name_?

He knew no more.

* * *

Sunlight filtered through the window in the dorm room, chasing away the last of the shadows. The sleepy campus was beginning to stir as the boys of Wharton Academy awoke to start their day.

Fermat struggled against the ropes binding him for what seemed like the millionth time, then fell back against his bed. Tears of frustration clouded his already blurred vision. He hadn't made any progress in freeing himself during the course of the night, and he was worried sick about his best friend. If he didn't find some way to free himself, the kidnappers' trail would run cold and he might never see Alan again.

Through the wall beside his bed, Fermat could hear an alarm clock go off. An idea formed in his head. Maneuvering himself further down onto his bed, he shifted his body until his feet were pointing at the wall. Taking a deep breath, he began to kick at the wall, hoping that his neighbors would get annoyed enough to come over and see what was going on.

* * *

Jeff reclined comfortably in a chair beside the pool and took out a newspaper. He and his sons, along with Brains, had been working nonstop in repairing the damage the Hood had done to their home a week and a half ago. They had managed to complete the repairs to the Thunderbirds, as well as their living quarters, but they still had a ways to go in fixing Thunderbird Five. The damage had been extensive. Rather than go by the original schematics, Jeff, John, and Brains had begun developing new schematics for Thunderbird Five to make it even more effective in their rescue operations. They were months away from completion; in the meantime, they had cobbled together a remote operating station in the lab that would take Thunderbird Five's place until it was finished. Though they were still working out some of the bugs, Jeff had to admit that it was nice to have his four eldest sons together again.

"_Gordon!"_

At least, that was what Jeff kept telling himself.

Another beautiful day had dawned in the South Pacific, and Jeff had decided to take full advantage of it by relaxing for a few hours. He should have known that, after all of the work they had done the last week and a half, his sons would find some way to release all of their excess energy.

Gordon raced from the house, darting around his father and running for the far side of the pool. Jeff glanced up from his paper briefly, curious as to who his second youngest had antagonized this time. The incensed bellow could have belonged to any of his boys.

His curiosity was satisfied almost immediately. Virgil was hot on Gordon's trail, a look of fury on his face. Jeff was mildly surprised at this; it usually took Virgil some time before he lost his temper. The Tracy patriarch wondered what Gordon had done to incur the wrath of his middle child so quickly.

Gordon ran easily around the edge of the pool, his expression equal parts fear and amusement. Jeff watched his sons from the corner of his eye as he resumed reading his paper. He knew that Virgil would eventually catch Gordon; Gordon was fast, but he had yet to achieve the speeds that the youngest Tracy was capable of. Chalk it up to four older brothers, but Alan was fast.

Jeff's mind wandered as his thoughts drifted to his youngest child. Despite all of the arguments and difficulties, he was very proud of Alan. Alan had proved himself to be an invaluable member of the team over spring break during the fiasco with the Hood. Jeff only hoped that Alan would settle down and finish school with the effort Jeff knew he was capable of. Only time would tell.

"Hey, Dad. Anything interesting?"

Jeff smiled as John ambled down to the pool and sat at the edge. John flashed a smile at his father, then turned his attention with mild interest to his younger brothers at the opposite end.

"They bothering you?" John asked as Virgil finally caught Gordon in a headlock.

"I'm trying to decide if I really need to tell my adult sons to quick the horseplay by the pool," Jeff answered.

John let out a huff of laughter. "Kids, huh?"

Jeff responded with a laugh of his own.

"Dad!"

All conversation and activity came to a halt when Scott suddenly ran outside, his face a mask of concern. Jeff immediately tensed, half-rising from his chair as he set his newspaper aside. Even Gordon and Virgil had forgotten their fight as they waited for Scott to speak.

Scott ran up to his father. "Dad, Alan's school is on the phone. They said they need to talk to you right away."

Confusion flickered across John's and Virgil's faces, but Gordon began to snicker.

"Who wants to lay odds that Alan's gotten himself kicked out of another school?" he asked.

Virgil punched Gordon on the arm.

"Did they say anything else?" Jeff demanded, starting for his study with his eldest by his side. He could hear his other sons following.

Scott shook his head. "No, nothing. Dad, I don't like it. The headmaster sounded . . . worried."

That assessment heightened Jeff's own concern. Despite what Gordon had mentioned, if Alan had been in trouble, the headmaster would have at least said as much to Scott. Something was wrong.

By the time Jeff reached his study, he had broken into a jog. He sat at his desk, taking note of the headmaster's careful composure on the screen before him.

"Headmaster Wallace," Jeff greeted. "What can I do for you?"

Wallace took a deep breath. It was clear that he was uncomfortable; possibly even scared. "Mr. Tracy, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but there was an incident last night."

Jeff felt his heart skip a beat. Behind him, he could feel his sons tense up. "What?" he asked, breathless.

The headmaster shifted in his seat. "Perhaps, Mr. Tracy, it would be best if you came out here so we could talk in person."

"Why?" Jeff demanded, feeling his pulse race. His stomach tied in knots. "What's wrong? Has something happened to Alan?"

The headmaster's eyes dropped to his desk for a moment, then lifted back up to meet Jeff's wide, blue eyes. "Mr. Tracy . . . it appears that Alan was kidnapped last night."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Alan moaned as he fought against the currents of sleep threatening to drag him back down. He nearly gave in; the stabbing pains in his skull were certainly enough to convince him to stay under, but something was niggling the back of his brain, telling him to wake up.

It took quite a bit of effort, but after several attempts, Alan managed to open heavy eyelids.

"You're awake! Are you hungry?"

Alan gave a start at the sudden voice. He looked around wildly, trying to see where he was.

He was lying on a bed in a small, windowless room lit by two bedside lamps. The room was decorated in a sports motif; posters of famous athletes adorned the walls. Action figures stood on the dresser on the far side of the wall, beside a number of framed photographs. Even the comforter on the bed resembled a football field.

A tall, muscular man with wavy blond hair and light blue eyes sat at the foot of the bed, smiling at Alan. Alan sat up and scooted to the headboard, wanting to put some distance between this strange man and himself.

"Who . . . who are you?" he demanded nervously. "Where am I?"

The man's smile widened. "Why, you're home, Alan."

Alan frowned in confusion. "Home? I don't understand. Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"I know you're confused, Alan, but all will be explained later," the man said. He stood and retrieved a tray laden with food from the dresser and set it down in front of the teenager. "Eat now. I'll be back in a bit."

Alan stared at the food, then at the man. So many questions filled his head, but he found himself speechless.

The man paused at the door and looked back at Alan, a fond smile on his face. "You look so much like your mother, Alan. So much like her."

He turned and left. Alan immediately leapt from the bed and ran to the door, pulling at the knob.

Locked.

"Hey!" Alan pounded on the door. "_Hey_! Let me out of here!"

After several minutes of yelling, Alan finally turned to survey his new surroundings. He wasn't entirely certain as to what was going on, but he knew that he didn't want to spend another minute there.

It appeared that he was in an ordinary bedroom. There were bookshelves filled with all sorts of books, ranging from fiction to nonfiction. There were even clothes in the dresser, all, to Alan's shock, his size. He slammed the drawers shut in disgust and turned his attention to the framed photographs sitting on the dresser and hanging nearby on the wall.

They were of children. Two boys and one girl, all obviously related. Each had blond hair and smiling blue eyes. Alan lifted a picture of the children smiling at a birthday party and gave a start. One of the little boys looked a lot like John. At least, the resemblance between John's childhood pictures and this little boy was very strong. And the girl . . . there was something familiar about her . . .

Alan moved to a photograph on the wall that showed the children a little older. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew them from somewhere.

One picture on the nightstand by his bed took his breath away. Alan felt his legs turn to rubber, and he sank down onto his bed and pulled the picture closer. He had seen this photo before, from an old album his father had shown him when he was younger.

It was of the girl, now a young woman, smiling for the camera in front of a blue studio backdrop.

It was his mother.

* * *

The trip from Tracy Island to Massachusetts passed in a blur for Jeff. From the moment that the headmaster of Wharton Academy had dropped that bombshell, all Jeff could think about was that his son was in danger.

The deafening silence that had followed after the pronouncement told Jeff that his other sons were just as stunned as he was. After the initial shock had worn off, however, they were full of questions and demands. With a quick promise to be at the school shortly, Jeff had severed the link with the headmaster in mid-apology.

"Kidnapped?" Gordon echoed in disbelief. "Are they sure?"

"What about Fermat?" Virgil asked.

"How could something like this happen?" Scott demanded angrily, his protective instincts firing. "Wharton Academy is supposed to be a safe environment! What happened to their security?"

"Dad, could it be the Hood?" John asked.

Scott, Virgil, and Gordon's heads all swiveled as one to John, then to Jeff. If the situation hadn't been so grave, it would have been amusing.

Jeff stood. "I don't know. I have to get to Wharton Academy immediately. Contact Lady Penelope and apprise her of the situation. See if she can track down the Hood's whereabouts."

Almost instantly, four voices rose in protest.

"Dad, we're coming too!"

"You're going to need our help!"

"We can't just sit here! Alan needs us!"

Jeff held up a hand, effectively silencing his boys. "I know you're all worried about Alan, and want to help find him, but we still have a responsibility to the people of this planet. Someone needs to stay behind and answer any distress calls."

"At least take one of us, Dad," Scott persisted. "_You're_ going to need help, too."

Jeff hesitated, looking at his sons. Each gaze was pleading. Finally, he nodded. "All right. John, you're with me."

John nodded, glancing at his brothers. Scott nodded his approval, understanding his father's choice. Of the four of them, John was best suited for keeping his father calm and focused. The others knew how much Jeff relied on John as a stable, supportive force in his life. Even though John was scared for his little brother, he would be the best man to help their father.

That had seemed like ages ago. Jeff could barely remember anything one minute to the next. He was wholly focused on getting to Alan's school and getting some answers.

The headmaster was waiting for them when they arrived. John hadn't spoken a word during the entire trip, but now his own anxiousness had caught up with him. Before Jeff could say anything, John blurted out, "What happened?"

Wallace stared at John in confusion for a moment, then turned to Jeff. "Mr. Tracy, I am deeply sorry for what has happened. Please understand, nothing like this has ever happened here-."

"What can you tell me about my son?" Jeff interrupted. He knew the headmaster was trying to cover his bases, but legality issues regarding the school were the furthest thing from Jeff's mind.

Wallace nodded. "Of course. Excuse me. From what we know, three men in black broke into your son's room last night, subdued him, and carried him off without so much as a shred of evidence left behind that they had ever been there. If it hadn't been for young Mr. Hackenbacker-."

"Is Fermat okay?" John broke in.

"He's fine," Wallace replied. "He's with the police and the FBI now, giving his statement. It seems the kidnappers left him tied up in his dorm room. I'm told he kicked the wall until his neighbors found him. We called the police immediately, of course, but there's been no word since-."

He was cut off abruptly as Jeff spun on his heel and walked out of the office. John followed suit, leaving the headmaster sputtering behind them.

"What do you think, Dad?" John asked.

Jeff's face was grim. "I don't know what to think right now. I'm hoping Fermat can give us more to go on."

The two set off across the campus at a quick pace. As they turned the corner of one building, Jeff felt his heart constrict in his chest.

The dorm building that he had moved Alan into was currently surrounded by curious onlookers, most of them students. Those in the back were standing on their toes and talking to their neighbors, most likely trying to figure out what was going on.

As the two Tracy men neared the building, they could see several police officers holding back the onlookers. John stayed close to his father as Jeff pushed through the crowd, intent on going into the building.

One officer stepped in their path, a hand in front of them. "Sorry, sirs, this is as far as you go."

Jeff turned a steely, commanding eye on the officer, and John felt a bolt of pity for the man. It was unnerving to be the subject of his father's glares at the best of times.

"Officer, my son lives in that dorm," Jeff stated, fighting to keep calm.

The officer, to his credit, held firm. "I'm sorry, sir. You can't go in there. If you would just wait over there-."

"No, I will _not_ wait!" Jeff thundered, his control slipping.

John quickly stepped forward, one hand squeezing his father's arm. Leaning forward, he said in a low tone, "Sir, the boy who disappeared is his son. My brother. We understand the need to keep the scene clear, but we really need to speak with the officer in charge."

The officer met John's blue eyes. After a moment, he nodded and stepped aside.

"Look for the suit," he told John as the two men passed. "Name's Vaughn."

"Thank you," John called over his shoulder.

The common room in the dorm was crowded with people, mostly boys who lived in the building. Officers weaved in and out of the crowd, taking statements and interviewing each boy. Jeff and John scanned the faces for Fermat.

John spotted him first. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing.

Jeff followed his son's gaze and spied Fermat, still clad in his nightclothes, sitting in the corner of the room with a husky man in a blue suit.

Fermat's face went from worry to relief as soon as he spotted Jeff and John approach. Leaping to his feet, he rushed over to Jeff.

"M-M-Mr. Tracy!" he cried.

"Fermat, are you all right?" Jeff demanded, dropping a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Fermat nodded. "M-Mr. Tracy, I'm s-s-sorry about w-what happened! I-I tried to s-stop them!"

"It's okay, Fermat, I know you did the best you could." Jeff squeezed Fermat's shoulder, then moved toward the man in the blue suit. "Are you in charge here?"

The man nodded, holding out a hand. "Detective Robert Vaughn. Am I to understand that the missing boy is your son?"

Jeff nodded. "What happened? Do you know who took him?"

"We're working on it," Vaughn replied. He gestured to the chair Fermat had vacated. "Would you like to sit down, sir? I'd like to ask you some questions."

Jeff hesitated. John knew why; his father was a man of action. To sit down and turn control of the investigation over to someone else, even for a few moments, would be difficult. Finally, Jeff gave in.

Vaughn took the other available seat, his notebook out. "Mr. Tracy, when was the last time you heard from your son?"

"A few days ago," Jeff answered. "We spoke on the phone last weekend. Everything was fine."

Vaughn nodded, jotting the answer down. "Alan didn't give you any indication that something was off? Maybe somebody was watching him, something like that?"

Jeff shook his head. "No, nothing. Listen, didn't the security cameras pick up anything?"

"Mr. Tracy, we're professionals," Vaughn answered, trying to steer the conversation back into his control. "We've got it covered. Now, do you know of anyone who might want to take your son?"

John and Fermat glanced at each other, but kept silent.

"Not unless it was for money," Jeff answered, deftly sidestepping the question. "Has there been any ransom demands?"

"Not yet, but we'll let you know," Vaughn promised.

John let part of his mind wander as Vaughn continued to question Jeff. He had wondered if the Hood had had a hand in Alan's abduction, but from what he had heard of the incident so far, he was beginning to doubt it. Such subterfuge seemed uncharacteristic of him. He wondered if Scott had gotten Lady Penelope to check on the status of the Hood yet.

Fermat tugged on John's arm, bringing John sharply back into the present. His father was standing, leaving a contact number with Vaughn. With a sharp glance, he led the way back through the crowd.

As soon as they were outside and out of earshot of any curious onlookers, Jeff turned to John and Fermat. "Boys, we're going to take a look around for any clues, and then we need to get back to the island. John, you and Fermat search the boys' room and see if you can find out how they bypassed the security system."

"What about you, Dad?" John asked.

Jeff's expression had hardened. John knew that look. The fear for Alan's safety had taken a backseat. Fury like a raging tempest was slowly building, and John knew that the storm would not abate until the men responsible for Alan's disappearance were caught.

"I'm calling in some favors from some friends of mine," Jeff answered. "The more people out looking for Alan, the better his chances of being found. Get going. I'll meet you boys at the main building in an hour."

John nodded and, grabbing Fermat's arm, began to jog back towards Alan's dorm. Despite the tension in the situation, he felt a thrill of satisfaction course through him. Now that his father knew where to start, no one would rest until Alan was found.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Alan paced the length of his room restlessly, his mind spinning. Nothing in his situation made any sense. Strange men had kidnapped him, but he hadn't been mistreated. In fact, he had been left on his own the last few hours. Not only that, he was trapped in a room that looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal boy's bedroom, but with photographs of his mother as a child.

He had tried to find some other way out of his room, but it was no use. The air vent was too small for him to climb through, and the only other exit was through the door, which was locked from the other side. If he wanted to escape, or contact his family, he would have to leave the room.

His family. Alan's strides slowed slightly as his mind turned to his father and brothers. Surely they knew he was missing by now. Alan's only consolation in the matter was that his family would pull out all the stops in finding him. Not only were the entire resources of Tracy Enterprises at his father's disposal, but also those of International Rescue. If Alan could just find some way to leave them a clue . . .

The sound of the locks on his door opening caused Alan to pause, his stomach fluttering with nervousness. He retreated back to one corner of the room as the man from earlier entered.

The man smiled brightly at Alan, then glanced at the untouched food still on the bed. His smile faltered slightly. "You haven't eaten? I'm sure you're hungry. And why haven't you changed?"

Alan glared at the man. "I want to go home."

The man shook his head patiently at Alan, moving the tray of food back to the dresser. "Alan, you _are_ home. The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be on everybody."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Alan demanded. "This _isn't_ my home! And _how do you know my name_?"

The man sat on the bed, resting his hands on his knees. "I suppose you deserve an explanation. I know, if I were you, I'd settle for nothing less. Why don't you have a seat?"

Alan folded his arms but didn't move.

The man nodded. "All right. Where to start? There's so much to say."

Alan simply stared at the man.

"This is going to be a little difficult for you to understand," the man continued. He glanced at the picture on the nightstand, which had obviously been moved. "I see you recognize the young woman in these pictures."

Alan felt a tendril of anger curl in his stomach. "Where did you get these? How do you know my mom?"

The man's smile turned sad. "I know her . . . because she was my sister."

Alan stared dumbly at the man. Surely he had misheard him. "Your . . . sister?"

The man nodded. "My name is Chris Soble. I'm your uncle, Alan."

Alan shook his head. "No . . . you're lying . . . I don't have an uncle."

Darkness flickered across Chris' face. "I suppose I should have expected that. Your father never liked me very much. Just look at the pictures, Alan. Surely you see the resemblance."

Alan didn't want to believe him, but the evidence was overwhelming. "But . . . why? If you _are_ my uncle, why did you kidnap me? How come I've never heard of you?"

"All your father's doing," Chris answered, the smile completely falling away from his face. "He never liked me. He took Lucy away from me. Lucy died because of him, and if that wasn't enough, he took away the last link to Lucy that I had! Her children!"

The tendril exploded. "You lie!" Alan shouted. "Mom died because of an accident! Dad tried to save her! And if he kept us away from you, then he must have realized that you were a nutcase! Which, considering what you've done, isn't too far from the mark, is it?"

Chris leaped off of the bed and, before Alan could react, struck Alan firmly across the face. Alan fell back against the wall, holding onto his reddened cheek. His blue eyes stared up at Chris in shock and anger, but he fell silent.

The anger cleared from Chris' eyes, and horror immediately filled the void. "Oh, Alan . . . I'm so sorry . . ."

He reached out to Alan, but drew his hand back sharply when Alan flinched. Stepping back, he took a deep breath.

"I apologize, Alan," Chris stated rigidly. "But you must understand that you can't say things like that. Your father told you lies, and I've brought you here to undo the damage. Your other brothers are too far gone for me to help, but you're not. I can't let Lucy's memory be tainted by the likes of Jeff Tracy. I _won't._"

Alan only stared at him, not moving. Chris studied his face almost regretfully, then turned and left Alan alone in the room.

As soon as he had gone, Alan slipped down to the ground, trembling. Chris' words chased themselves around his head. They couldn't be true. They just couldn't.

Could they?

* * *

No sooner than John had stepped out of the hangar than he was besieged on all sides by his brothers. Fermat was immediately whisked away by his concerned father, leaving John alone to answer his brothers' questions.

He held up a hand. "One at a time!"

Scott tightened his grip on John's arm and forced him towards their father's study, releasing him only when he pushed the younger man onto the couch. "All right, what have you found out so far?"

"Not much," John answered unhappily. "The men who took Alan knew all the security codes, and they managed to shut down the cameras in the twenty minutes it took for them to grab Alan and bolt."

"Where's Dad?" Virgil demanded.

"He decided to stay stateside to coordinate the search," John replied. "He thought it would be easier that way."

Search was an understatement. By the time John and Fermat had left, Jeff had already dispatched a massive manhunt to look for his missing son. From what John could tell, his father had called in not only the FBI, but several friends in the CIA as well as every private detective service on the Eastern Coast.

"Have they heard anything from the kidnappers?" Gordon asked anxiously. "Do they know why Alan was kidnapped? Has there been a ransom demand?"

"Not yet," John told him. He saw the hope dwindle on his brothers' faces and felt his heart break with theirs. If there had been a ransom call, that would at least give them more to go on.

"What can we do?" Scott asked.

"Dad wants us to keep an eye on things for International Rescue, but all of our efforts are to go towards finding some clue to Alan's whereabouts," John stated. "Our tracking equipment is the best in the world, and that gives us an edge. Did you hear from Lady Penelope?"

Virgil nodded. "She's heading out to Massachusetts to help Dad out with the search," he replied. "She told us that the Hood is still in custody in London, and that Mullion and Transom are as well. Whoever took Alan is operating without them."

"Well, that's something," John said. "I'm going to go talk to Brains and see about setting all of our scanners to locate any mention of Alan. The press hasn't gotten wind of this yet, which will help."

"I'm going to look at Dad's past corporate dealings," Scott decided. "Maybe it's an old associate or something who's trying to get back at him."

"I'll help," Gordon piped up immediately.

John turned to Virgil. "Virge, why don't you head out to Massachusetts and help Dad out? We can all take turns."

Virgil nodded and immediately took off for the hangar. John stood and, patting Gordon on the shoulder, ran off in the direction of the lab. Gordon turned to Scott.

"Do you really think someone took Alan for a ransom?" he asked.

Fire flashed in Scott's eyes. "Whatever the reason, they aren't getting what they want. No one messes with _this_ family."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Jeff Tracy thanked the man on his video screen and severed the connection. Finally left on his own, he shut his eyes and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.

By his count, Alan had been missing for over twelve hours now, and even with all the men and women out looking for him, they were no closer to finding his son than they were when they started.

If only there was a ransom . . . Jeff couldn't imagine why someone would want to take his son if not for money. It was well known that he was rich. If Alan's kidnappers wanted money, they would get it. _Anything_ to see Alan again.

"Jeff."

Jeff straightened abruptly and stood, turning to face the owner of the familiar, cultured tone that had spoken. "Penny."

Lady Penelope crossed the room and enveloped Jeff into a tight but brief hug. "The boys contacted me. Are you all right?"

Jeff nodded. "We've got every person available out looking for Alan." His voice softened. "Thanks for coming."

Lady Penelope smiled faintly. "What are friends for? I brought with me some friends from Scotland Yard, and they're even now speaking with the men in charge of the investigation. Parker's with them. We'll find him."

Jeff nodded, grateful for his friend's presence as well as her assistance. "Penny . . . why haven't they called? If it was for money, they would have left a note or something. What else could they want?"

"I don't know, but we'll find out," Lady Penelope stated confidently. "Whoever took Alan won't get away with it."

Jeff felt the angry determination kindle inside of him once again. Lady Penelope saw it reflected in his eyes and felt a wave of satisfaction roll through her. As long as Jeff remained focused on the task at hand, they would be able to move mountains.

* * *

_" . . . still no leads as to the whereabouts of reclusive billionaire Jeff Tracy's youngest son. Even as we speak, the largest search ever recorded is presently underway for the missing teenager. It seems only a matter of time before something turns up. Stay posted for further details. This is-."_

Chris shut the television off with a vengeance and threw the remote aside. "I should have expected this."

His three sons sat around the living room, watching their father expectantly. Each of them had the same blond hair and blue eyes as their father.

The eldest son, who was nearing thirty years in age, spoke up first. "Dad, you know that Jeff Tracy wouldn't just sit idly by. I mean, we _did_ take his kid."

"And from what you've told us about him, he won't stop until he finds Alan," his middle son added.

Chris nodded absently. "You're absolutely right, boys. I know that, if any of you were taken, I would do the same. But Jeff Tracy is a bad man. He can't get his claws back into Alan again. It's our duty as Alan's family to keep that from happening."

His youngest son, who was twenty-four-years old, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Dad, maybe we reacted hastily. I mean, maybe we should have tried just contacting Alan before all this."

Chris turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me you feel sorry for Jeff Tracy, Elliot?"

Elliot shook his head quickly. "No, of course not! But look at what's happened! Nearly every single person east of the Mississippi River is looking for the kid. It's going to be that much harder for us to keep a low profile."

Elliot glanced at his older brothers, then turned back to his father. "Maybe we should send Alan's dad a note. Let him know that Alan is safe, and to tell him to quit searching."

Chris mulled the suggestion over. Gradually, he began to nod. "The idea has merit." He turned to his eldest. "Luke, go get some paper. We'll have Alan write the note for us."

Luke nodded, stood, and hurried from the room.

"What if Alan won't write it?" Chris' middle child asked.

Chris' face became stern. "Alan is a spirited child, Josh, but all he needs is a little discipline. I think it's time he understood that."

Josh and Elliot exchanged knowing looks. A wave of pity passed between them.

* * *

As soon as the locks began to rattle against the door, Alan leaped to his feet and backed against the wall. He didn't know whether to believe Chris or not. But the man was unstable, and Alan knew that unstable men were dangerous.

Chris entered the room, this time with another blond man, this one a little older than Scott. Alan's eyes flickered from one to the next, wondering what they wanted now.

"Alan, I want to introduce you to your cousin, Luke," Chris stated, gesturing to the new man. "He helped bring you to me."

"You mean he helped kidnap me," Alan spat back.

"It seems like that now, but you'll change your mind soon enough," Chris replied calmly. He set some paper and a pencil on the dresser. Alan looked at it.

"What do you want now?" he demanded.

"It appears that your father is a little . . . unhappy with your new situation," Chris answered.

Alan smirked. "I'll bet he is. You guys are in so much trouble now."

Chris took a menacing step forward, effectively wiping the smirk from Alan's face as he flinched in fear. Chris paused and took a deep breath.

"You will be writing a letter to your father, telling him to call off the search," Chris told Alan.

"And why would I do that?" Alan snapped.

"Alan, you're only making things harder on yourself," Luke spoke up. "Just write the letter."

Alan folded his arms across his chest. "No."

"Alan."

Chris' even tone sent a shiver down Alan's spine. The man was obviously controlling his true emotions, but Alan was rapidly pushing him to the breaking point. There was no telling what Chris might do to him if he lost that tenuous grip on his anger.

Alan jutted his chin out and steeled himself. "Forget it."

Chris and Luke looked at each other. Luke stepped forward and grabbed Alan's arm in a tight grip, forcing him over to the dresser. Alan struggled against Luke, trying to pull away.

"Let go!" Alan shouted. "I won't do it! _Leave me alone_!"

Luke gave a mighty tug, sending Alan crashing against the dresser with such force that the figures and pictures flew to the ground. Alan let out a cry of pain, sinking to his knees beside the dresser.

Luke's hand moved to the back of Alan's neck and forced him up onto his feet. Alan gasped, his hands flying to his neck.

"Alan, Alan, Alan." Chris moved closer, his light blue eyes piercing Alan's. "If you plan on being a member of this family, you are going to have to realize that I am in charge. You will not disobey me. Is that understood?"

Alan summoned up all of his outrage. "I'm not a member of your family! My name's Alan Tracy! I am Jeff Tracy's son! Nothing you could ever say or do would ever change that! _Ever_!"

A shadow passed over Chris' face. He nodded at Luke, who released Alan. Alan sank back to the ground at Chris' feet. He dimly heard the door shut and knew that he was alone with Chris.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this, but you've given me little choice." Alan felt a tight grip on his arm, and he was forced up from the ground and thrown at the bed. As he turned around to face Chris, he saw that Chris had removed his belt and was holding it at his side. Fear coiled in Alan's stomach.

"Write the letter," Chris ordered.

Alan swallowed thickly. "No."

Chris stepped forward, raised the belt, and brought it down. Pain exploded across Alan's arm, which he had raised to defend himself. He cried out, curling in on himself.

"Write the letter," Chris said again.

Alan blinked back tears to glare at Chris. "No!"

Chris struck him again, the belt swiping most of Alan's back. Alan choked back another scream, trying to twist away.

"_Write it_!" Chris yelled.

"_I won't_!" Alan shouted back.

Chris hit him again. And again. And again. Alan did his best to avoid the sharp buckle and the sting of the leather, but Chris was too fast for him. Pain exploded throughout his body. With each demand Chris gave, Alan resisted. As much as he hurt, and as much as Chris persisted, Alan refused to give in.

The demands for the letter to be written eventually stopped, and Chris continued to swing the belt down onto the teenager. His face was beet red with exertion, sweat trickling down his face. Alan's cries and pleas to stop fell on deaf ears. Only when Chris felt his arm tire did he stop. Breathing heavily, he stared down at Alan's trembling, bleeding figure.

"Next time, you _will_ obey me," he said calmly.

Alan passed out before the door closed behind the man.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Virgil watched the people come and go from the window in the suite his father had reserved in Boston to serve as a headquarters for the search. So many people were out hunting for his little brother, and no one had turned up any news.

"_Dammit_!"

Virgil gave a start and turned to his father in time to see him lift a vase and hurl it against the wall. Some of the men his father had hired to look for Alan jerked in surprise as it struck the wall and shattered into pieces, but Virgil and Lady Penelope barely moved. Despite Jeff's constant struggle against Alan's infamous temper, they both knew without a doubt where Alan had gotten it from.

"There _has_ to be more to go on!" Jeff thundered.

"Jeff, they're doing everything they can," Lady Penelope broke in gently.

Jeff sighed and sank into his chair, rubbing his temple. "I know," he said. He looked at the men's wary gazes. "I'm sorry. I know you're doing your best. Please, just get back out there and find my son."

Virgil turned his gaze back out the window as his father walked with the men to the door. He understood his father's frustration; he felt it just as strongly himself. As much as Alan annoyed him, he wanted nothing more than to find his little brother, take him back to Tracy Island, and lock him away where no one would be able to hurt Alan again.

A lone figure standing on the opposite side of the street drew Virgil's attention. The man was alone, oblivious to the crowds of people surging around him. He looked a little older than Virgil himself, with short blond hair. His blue eyes were staring at the building, as if he could see through the walls and right at the people inside. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, but Virgil couldn't put his finger on it.

A cry of surprise drew Virgil's attention away from the window. Jeff and Lady Penelope were hurrying from the door to the table with an envelope in Jeff's hand. Virgil glanced back out the window, but the man was gone.

"Virgil!"

Virgil glanced left and right, hoping to find the man, but to no avail. Turning back around, he moved to his father's side. "A note? Is it from Alan's kidnappers?"

Jeff tore the envelope open with shaking hands and pulled the note out. He scanned it, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What does it say?" Lady Penelope demanded.

Jeff read it again, shaking his head. Wordlessly, he turned it over to Lady Penelope. Virgil moved closer, reading the note over her shoulder.

_Jeff,_

_Years ago, you took away the only person in my life that meant anything to me. Since then, you have done everything in your power to erase her from my life. This is my way of taking back what's rightfully mine. Alan is mine now, and I'm not letting him go. Call off the search._

Virgil looked at his father, who had moved over to the window. "Dad?" he asked tentatively. "What does this mean? Do you know what they're talking about?"

Jeff turned to his son, his eyes flickering to meet Lady Penelope's suddenly guarded gaze. Virgil looked from one to the other, feeling as though he were missing something important.

"I . . . I can't be sure," Jeff admitted. "It sounds like . . . but he wouldn't try . . . not again . . ."

"Dad?" Virgil tried again.

Jeff suddenly seemed to come to a decision. "Let's get back to the island. If it is who I think it is, then I need to speak with all your brothers."

Lady Penelope immediately pulled out her phone. "Parker, bring the car around. We'll be taking a quick trip to Tracy Island."

* * *

By the time the four of them had reached Tracy Island, Virgil was bursting with curiosity. His father and Lady Penelope were clearly aware of who might have taken Alan, but neither were willing to say anything just yet. Virgil was tempted to press his father for information, but he knew better. Jeff was barely holding himself together as it was.

Jeff had disappeared into his room for half an hour, leaving Virgil to be surrounded by questioning brothers. It wasn't until their father emerged with a box in one hand that they left him alone.

"Dad, what's going on?" Scott asked.

"Boys, meet me at the kitchen table," Jeff replied. "Make sure Lady Penelope is there, too."

Within five minutes, Jeff found himself sitting at the table with the box before him. He felt his sons' eyes on him expectantly, and he knew that they were doing their best not to push their father to speak, but Jeff knew it was only a matter of time. Their concern for their youngest brother would override their patience.

Jeff sighed and, after a quick glance at Lady Penelope's supportive look, met his sons' eyes. "It was bound to come out sooner or later. I was hoping it would be under better circumstances."

He opened the box in front of him. "This belonged to your mother. In it she kept everything she felt were the most important things to her in her life."

Slowly, with slightly shaky hands, he began to pass around photographs. The boys, exchanging confused looks, accepted the pictures and looked at them. Smiles blossomed on their faces as they silently shared in old memories. Most of the pictures they were looking at were taken when they were children. Some were baby pictures, some were of the boys, some were of Jeff.

John looked up at Jeff. "I don't understand, Dad. What does this have to do with Alan?"

Jeff nodded. Reaching into the box, he pulled out another, older picture. He handed it to John, who glanced at it with a frown.

Gordon peered at the picture. "Hey, that kid looks kind of like John!" he exclaimed.

Scott and Virgil reached for the picture and looked for themselves. "He's right," Scott observed. He looked at Jeff. "Who _are_ these kids?"

"The girl in the picture is your mother," Jeff answered. "The boy who resembles John is her older brother, Christian. The other boy was their younger brother."

His sons all stared at Jeff in shock. "Her brother?" Gordon echoed.

"Mom had brothers?" Virgil asked. "How come we never knew that?"

Jeff sighed heavily. "It's a long story, boys, and one I was hoping never to have to tell, but it looks like it's out of my hands. Please, let me explain, and then you can ask your questions."

The boys all nodded, Virgil clutching the photo tightly.

Jeff sighed again. "Your mother never meant to keep this a secret from you boys. She planned on telling you all when she felt you were old enough to understand, but she . . . she died before she could."

He saw his sons grow still at the mention of their mother's death. Lady Penelope was solemn. She had known Lucille before her untimely death, and she had grieved alongside the family.

"Lucy's life as a child and as a teenager is something she never liked to talk about," Jeff began. "Don't get me wrong; her parents loved her and her brothers very much. But Christian wasn't your typical older brother. He saw Lucy as something of a possession. He tried to control her, tell her who she could be friends with and where she could go. I don't have to tell you how your mother probably felt about that."

Smiles met his comment. All the boys knew that their mother was every bit as strong-willed and determined as any of them.

"Chris used to try and use his strength to keep Lucy in line, but Lucy would have none of it," Jeff continued. "She told me that she used to sneak in and out of the house just to go out with her friends."

"Why didn't her parents ever try and stop him?" John asked.

"They never knew about it," Jeff answered, disgusted. "They thought Lucy was making it all up, since Chris never behaved that way in front of them. Well, already disturbed, Chris became even more unstable when their parents died. Lucy was sixteen when that happened."

"What did he do?" Gordon wanted to know.

"He tried to lock Lucy in the house," Jeff answered. "He had been awarded custody of her in their parents' will; that only cemented his feelings of ownership. That didn't sit well with your mother. By the time she turned eighteen, she had moved out of the house and was starting a life of her own."

"Did Chris try and get her back?" Scott asked.

Jeff paused. "I'm not sure. Your mom never said, but I think he tried. Obviously, nothing came of it. I met Lucy a little while after that, and we got married.

"Chris resented me for doing that," Jeff continued. "Despite all he had done, to him, Lucy was the one bright spot in his life. By marrying her, it seemed to Chris that I had taken her away from him."

"That's ridiculous!" Virgil exclaimed.

"We thought it was over when he got married and had children of his own," Jeff went on. "Lucy tried to keep in contact, but Chris never forgave her for leaving him. His wife died shortly after giving birth to her third son, and that pushed him further to the edge. He began to leave threatening phone calls on our machine. We finally had to change our number. When he started showing up at our house, and at Scott and John's school, we put out a restraining order on him."

Scott and John exchanged stunned looks. "We never knew that," Scott said.

"That was the way we wanted it," Jeff replied. "Your mother and I never wanted you boys to worry. And for a while, it worked. We didn't hear anything from Chris for years."

"Something must have changed, if you think he's involved with Alan's kidnapping," Gordon observed.

Jeff nodded. "It was . . . it was shortly after the accident, when we lost Lucy. My lawyers approached me, saying that Chris was fighting to gain custody of you boys."

"_What_?" Virgil exclaimed.

"Why?" Scott demanded.

Jeff held up a hand. "He held me responsible for Lucy's death. He accused me of being the one to kill her, and he wanted to take you boys away from me. To him, you were his last link to his sister, and he didn't want to lose that."

"That's ridiculous!" John scoffed.

"That's pretty much what my lawyers said," Jeff agreed. "Chris never got anyone to go along with his petition, and he finally gave up after a visit from a very good friend." He nodded at Lady Penelope.

Lady Penelope met the boys' incredulous stares. "Chris was trying to make a bad situation worse, and after everything you were all going through, I couldn't stand by and do nothing. Parker and I paid a visit to Chris and convinced him to give up his ridiculous attempts. It took some persuading, but he finally agreed."

"We haven't heard from Chris again," Jeff finished. "Until now."

Silence fell over the table as the boys digested the new information. None of them could believe what they had heard, and yet the evidence was still right there in Virgil's hands.

"So you think this guy, Chris, is the one who took Alan?" Scott ventured.

Jeff nodded, passing around the note that had been delivered to the suite in Massachusetts. "It's the only explanation that makes sense. And if Chris has Alan, then we need to find out where he is, and now."

"Do you think he'd hurt Alan?" John asked.

Jeff's jaw tightened. "It's a very real possibility. Lucy's death was the last straw. Chris is not only crazy, he's dangerous. Alan has your mother's spirit; if he _has_ deteriorated over the years, he's more a threat now than he ever was."

Murderous looks fell over the boys' faces. "If he lays so much as a hand on Alan . . ." Gordon began.

"Get in line," Scott told him.

"We need to get going on tracking their moves," Jeff said, cutting off his sons' veiled threats. "Scott, you look for Christian Soble, any records you can find. You other three, take one son and track him down. I believe . . . their names are Luke, Josh, and Elliot."

Scott, John, and Gordon immediately rose to follow their father's commands, but Virgil's quiet voice pulled them up short.

"Dad, you said Mom had two brothers," he said. "What happened to the other one?"

Jeff grew very still. He had been hoping to avoid answering that particular question.

"Dad?" John asked, nervous.

"Lucy's younger brother died when he was six," Jeff answered quietly. "They found him at the foot of a tree where they had a tree house with a broken neck. The authorities eventually ruled it as an accident, but Lucy said she had seen Chris and her younger brother argue up in the tree house just minutes before."

Looks of horror passed between the brothers. Jeff met their gazes firmly. "Now you see what we're up against, boys. Let's move."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Alan awoke with a gasp, feeling hands on his bruised arms. He tried to pull away, but each movement brought with it a fresh wave of agony.

"Easy, easy. I'm not going to hurt you."

Alan twisted around and found himself looking up at a new face. "Who are you?" he demanded weakly.

"I'm Elliot," was the short reply. "I'm your cousin. I'm here to see how you're doing."

"Pretty good for someone who just had the crap beat out of him with a belt," Alan spat back out, pulling away from Elliot. As he tried to move to a more comfortable position, he missed Elliot's wince.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Elliot told Alan. "Why didn't you just do what my dad told you to do? He would have stopped."

"I'm not about to help your dad keep mine from finding me," Alan snapped. "I don't want to be here. I want to go home."

"That's not possible," Elliot replied, sitting on the bed near Alan. "Why don't you just give us a chance? My dad's not that bad of a guy."

"He seems like a real sweetheart," Alan shot back snidely.

"You were asking for it!" Elliot argued. "You could have just given in!"

"Forget it!" Alan replied. "Look, I don't know if your dad is telling the truth or not, but I do know that my dad loved my mom very much, and that he would never lie to me!"

"Are you sure about that?" Elliot asked quietly.

"Yes!" Alan exclaimed. "My dad's a good man. And I'll tell you something else; he's never going to rest until he finds me! When my dad and my brothers find out what he's done, he's toast!"

"We'll see about that." Chris entered the room, giving his youngest son a curious look. "Will you please excuse us, Elliot?"

Elliot nodded and left. Chris took the same spot Elliot had just vacated.

"Alan, son, I'm very sorry for what happened earlier," he said. "You must understand, though, that it was for your own good. You need to learn some self-discipline and manners. I'm trying to help you."

"You want to help me, then let me go," Alan said.

"Alan, we've gone over this," Chris stated.

"No, _we_ haven't gone over anything!" Alan shouted. "_You've_ decided to keep me here all on your own! When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Keep your voice down!" Chris yelled. "You will speak to me with respect!"

"SCREW YOU!" Alan bellowed. "YOU'RE NOT MY DAD! I WILL NEVER LISTEN TO YOU! YOU HEAR ME? NEVER!"

"ENOUGH!" Chris grabbed Alan's shoulders and shoved him back against the headboard, Alan's head striking the wall. He shoved the teenager again and again. "YOU WILL NEVER SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY AGAIN!"

Alan didn't answer. His body lay limp in Chris' hands, Alan having passed out from the pain again. Chris dropped Alan to the bed in disgust, stood, and exited the room.

Elliot was waiting out in the hall as Chris pulled the door shut and locked it. The two men met each other's eyes for a moment, then Chris moved down the hall to his study.

* * *

"What have you got?"

Jeff saw the grim excitement in Scott's eyes and felt it echoed in his heart. His son had found something; that much was certain.

"How about a place of residence?" Scott asked, waving a piece of paper in the air.

Jeff stood and snatched the paper from Scott's hand. He quickly scanned it, the excitement growing. "Are you certain?"

Scott nodded. "I've just cross-checked it with the boys. Turns out Chris and his three sons all live together in this house."

"Excellent!" Jeff exclaimed. "Tell your brothers to meet us in the hangar, and let Lady Penelope know. I have to contact the search parties."

"All been done, Dad," Scott told him. "Lady Penelope took off ten minutes ago with Parker, and she's going to give us some time to go get Alan ourselves before bringing backup. The boys are waiting for us in the hangar as we speak."

Jeff grinned, feeling hopeful for the first time in the twenty-four hours since his son's disappearance. "Then what are we waiting for?"

* * *

Darkness had fallen as the Tracy men moved stealthily through the rundown neighborhood where Chris Soble and his sons lived. Curious eyes peeked out from behind blinds and curtains, but nobody made any move to stop them.

"You think Alan's here?" Gordon whispered as they paused in the shadows of a large willow tree, looking up at a two-story house desperately in need of work.

"Only one way to find out," Jeff replied. "All right, Scott, John, you two go around back. Virgil, Gordon, you take the front and handle anyone who comes outside. I'll lay down some cover for you boys. Scott, John, get Alan out. Leave Chris and his sons to us."

His sons all nodded and began to run, heading for their designated spots. Jeff watched them go, sending up a silent prayer for his plan to work.

* * *

"Scott! Wait up!"

Scott turned and shot John an impatient look. "Keep up!"

John rolled his eyes, but quickened his pace. They paused near the back door, waiting for the signal.

They didn't have to wait long. A loud explosion suddenly shattered the silence surrounding the neighborhood. Scott and John traded grins.

"That's our cue," Scott whispered, reaching for the knob.

The door was locked, but that proved not much of a challenge as Scott deftly picked it and pushed it open. Pausing as startled cries reached their ears, they watched as several indeterminate shapes raced towards the front of the house.

"Upstairs first," John told Scott, moving for the stairs.

They could hear the sounds of fighting taking place just out in the front yard as they moved to the second floor. They didn't know how many of Alan's captors had gone outside, so they remained quiet in case there were any others nearby.

The upstairs hall showed several doors, all closed. Only one, however, held several locks on it. The two older Tracys headed straight for that door, unbolting it and pushing it open.

They paused just inside the room, a little taken back by the strange décor. All confusion was forgotten, however, when their eyes fell on a familiar figure lying on the bed.

"Alan!" Scott and John cried softly, crowding around him. Their younger brother jolted sharply into consciousness and began to struggle against his brothers' arms.

"Alan, it's okay, it's us, Sprout!" Scott exclaimed.

"Scott?" Alan asked in disbelief. The confusion cleared in his eyes, and he stared at his brothers. "John?"

He threw himself into his brothers' arms, hugging them tightly. Scott and John squeezed back, but released him sharply when Alan let out a cry of pain. The two elder boys looked at each other, then took a closer look at Alan.

Alan still wore the nightclothes he had been wearing when he had been kidnapped, but they were now torn and stained with blood. Through the tears, Scott and John could just make out dark bruises and newly sealed cuts on Alan's body. Their eyes darkened in fury as they realized what had been done to Alan.

"Scott? John?" Alan asked. "Where's Dad? Can I go home now?"

"Dad's outside, waiting for you, Sprout," Scott told his brother. He scooped Alan into his arms. "Let's get going."

"Going so soon?"

Scott and John tensed and spun around, finding their exit blocked by a tall, muscular, and very angry man. Scott didn't need to hear Alan's sharp intake of breath to know that this man was Chris Soble.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Chris said calmly.

Scott felt a rage unlike anything he'd ever experience overtake him. Shoving Alan into John's arms, he lunged forward.

Chris saw him coming, and lashed out with his fist. Scott, blinded by his anger, never saw the punch coming. It connected solidly with his chin, sending him to the ground with stars in his eyes.

"Scott!" Alan cried.

Chris stepped over Scott, moving closer to the other two Tracys. John tensed. Setting Alan down onto his feet, he pushed his little brother behind him.

"I take it your father chose not to call off the search," Chris stated blandly. "He'll regret that."

"It's over, Soble!" John told him, trying hard not to look at Scott. Scott had rolled onto his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. "We've got you surrounded and more people are on their way."

"Well, then I guess I had better hurry." Chris reached behind him and pulled out a gun from the waistband from his pants. He aimed it at John.

John straightened, making sure Alan was completely out of Chris' sight.

Scott chose that moment to strike. He kicked his leg out, connecting with the backs of Chris' knees. Chris staggered, the gun firing into the ceiling. John lunged forward and grabbed for the gun, trying to twist it out of Chris' hand.

Scott leapt into the fray from behind Chris. He spared Alan a glance. "Alan, run!" he yelled. "Get outside! Dad and the boys are there! Go!"

Alan didn't have to be told twice. He took off out of the room, running down the hall for the stairs.

He never made it.

Someone grabbed him from behind, lifting him off of his feet. Alan let out a startled cry and began to thrash, but it was no use. Whoever had him was too strong. Alan struggled helplessly as he was carried back to his room.

"Let my father go!" a voice shouted very near Alan's ear.

Alan watched as his two brothers froze and turned to him. As one, they reluctantly released Chris and stepped back. Chris straightened, wiping blood away from the corner of his mouth, and nodded at the man holding Alan.

"Good job, Luke," he said.

"Let him go," Scott ordered, his entire body thrumming with energy. John looked no less incensed, but he remained silent.

"We've got a problem," Luke said, shifting Alan in his arms. "Tracy and his other two brats are outside. They've got Josh and Elliot."

"I know," Chris replied. "We need to move."

"What about them?" Luke asked, nodding to Scott and John.

"We'll have to bring them with us," Chris decided. "We can get rid of them later."

"No!" Alan yelled, thrashing with a renewed vengeance. Luke did his best to keep his hold on Alan, but was finding it more difficult as Alan continued to fight.

Chris moved over to them and threw his fist, striking Alan across his bruised face. Alan's head snapped back, and he fell limply in Luke's arms.

"You bastard!" Scott yelled, starting forward. Only John's restraining hands held him back. "Keep your hands off of him! He's just a kid!"

Chris pointed his gun at them. "One wrong move, and your brother dies. Let's go."

Scott and John followed Chris out of the room, both glancing back to make sure that Luke was following with Alan. They exchanged silent looks, trying to come up with a way to call for help, but nothing came to mind.

Instead of going out the back door, Chris led them down into a basement. The basement was little more than a mess, with boxes and old furniture crowding every inch. The group carefully picked their way across the large room to one side, where a box spring mattress was propped against the wall. At Chris' direction, Scott and John lifted the mattress and tossed it to one side, revealing a door.

Footsteps could be heard thundering overhead. Scott and John looked back the way they had come hopefully, but Chris gestured to the door with his gun. With a sinking heart, the two boys obediently followed Luke and Alan through the door and away from any hope of help.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Lady Penelope stood on the front porch of the Soble house, speaking quietly to Parker. The house was even now crawling with every law enforcement officer that it could hold as they gathered evidence, but Lady Penelope's main concern was for Jeff Tracy. She could see him where she had left him half an hour before, sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. Gordon and Virgil stood nearby, their stances echoing the hopelessness they felt.

"Where are the two sons that Jeff and the boys managed to get?" Lady Penelope asked suddenly.

"They're in the back of the police cruiser in the driveway, milady," Parker replied.

Lady Penelope nodded. "I'll want to speak with them in a minute."

"Very good, milady," Parker answered.

Lady Penelope moved away from the house, heading for her old friend. She paused long enough to place a comforting hand on Virgil's arm, then moved to stand beside Jeff.

"Are you all right, Jeff?" she asked quietly.

Jeff looked up at her. "We were so close, Penny. Alan was right here! And now that man has three of my boys!"

"I know," Lady Penelope said.

"The . . . the room that Alan had been held in . . . there was blood on the bed," Jeff stammered. The fear and worry gave way to unbridled rage. "That son of a . . . he hurt my son."

Lady Penelope said nothing. She had seen the room for herself and had felt angry as well.

Jeff stood, bristling in his fury. His sons immediately moved closer, but didn't dare speak. They recognized their father's temper in full force.

"Jeff, I'm going to have a word with the two you and the boys captured," Lady Penelope told her friend. "I've been checking into their backgrounds myself, and I think I may have an idea."

Jeff nodded and followed her over to the cruiser Parker had indicated. He glanced behind him to make sure his two remaining sons were following.

The two sullen stares that met them caused Lady Penelope to falter slightly. The resemblance they bore to the boys she knew so well was astonishing. Steeling herself, she said, "My name is Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, and I am a very close friend of the Tracys. I have a few questions to ask you."

"You're wasting your time," said the man Lady Penelope knew to be Josh Soble.

Lady Penelope looked over at Elliot. "Your father has committed a serious crime, not only in kidnapping but in harming a child. You know what he has done is wrong and shouldn't be allowed. If you know anything that can help us locate the missing boys, please, tell us."

"Forget it, lady!" Josh snapped.

Lady Penelope's eyes were locked with Elliot's. She saw the indecision there and pressed harder.

"Do you really think that your father is justified in harming a defenseless child?" she asked. "I can appreciate the anger you might feel towards Jeff Tracy, but do you think his son is the one who should suffer for it?"

"Elliot, don't listen to her," Josh ordered his younger brother. "She's on his side! Don't betray our family!"

"There was a tunnel in your basement that led to the sewer system," Lady Penelope continued, not breaking her eye contact with Elliot. "Where would your father go from there?"

"Elliot, keep your mouth shut," Josh said, clearly worried at his brother's weakening state.

"Please, help us to save Alan and the others," Lady Penelope pressed. "Don't let any more innocent people be hurt by this situation."

A charged silence fell over the group. Jeff bit his tongue, tempted to reach into the cruiser and shake the answer free.

Elliot sighed. "I didn't think he would really hurt the kid. Dad really believed he was trying to help him."

"Elliot!" Josh hissed.

"Dad's wrong, Josh, and you know it!" Elliot replied sharply. He looked past Lady Penelope, meeting Jeff's eyes. "Sir, I'm sorry for what's happened. If I had known, I would never have gone along with this."

Jeff edged closer. "Where is he taking my sons?"

"There's a junkyard about two miles from here," Elliot answered, ignoring his brother's cursing. "That's where we were supposed to meet if anything went wrong, or if we got separated. He'll probably be there for the night, then move out in the morning."

Lady Penelope smiled kindly at Elliot. "Thank you."

As the Tracys and Lady Penelope hurried from the cruiser, Jeff turned to Lady Penelope. "How did you know he would talk?"

Lady Penelope smiled at him. "Based on what his background told me, and from what I found out from some neighbors, Elliot is a lot like his Aunt Lucy."

Jeff paused and turned back to the cruiser, then looked at Lady Penelope. "Thanks, Penny."

Lady Penelope's smile widened. "Anytime, Jeff. Now go on. I'll send the help along after a bit. Go find your boys."

* * *

"Sit down!" Chris ordered, shoving John onto the floor of the junkyard office. John glared up at Chris, but didn't say anything.

Scott started to lunge at Chris again, but Luke gave him a shove from behind. The eldest Tracy landed on the ground beside John, grinding his teeth in frustration. Before he could move, Luke dropped Alan on top of the two of them and laughed, joining his father on the other end of the office.

Scott and John pushed their anger aside as they shifted Alan into a more comfortable position. Scott cradled Alan on his lap as John began to examine his wounds. As he began to lift Alan's shirt, Alan began to stir.

"Hey, Sprout, you all right?" Scott asked, brushing the hair out of Alan's eyes.

Alan's eyes flickered open, and he looked up at his big brother. "Where are we? Are we home?"

"Not yet, Sprout," John answered, gently tracing the scars on his little brother's body. Alan winced and tried to shift away.

"Easy, it's okay," Scott murmured. He looked at John. "How bad?"

John pushed Alan's shirt back down. "Bad enough to be painful, but nothing looks broken." He turned to Alan. "How did this happen?"

One corner of Alan's mouth turned up. "I wouldn't do what he told me."

Scott and John let out a bark of laughter. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Scott answered.

Alan lifted his head off of Scott's shoulder and turned it around, examining their new surroundings. "What do we do now?"

John and Scott met each other's eyes. "We're working on that," John replied lightly. "In the meantime, just relax."

Alan glanced over at Chris, then turned to his brothers. "He said he's our uncle."

Scott sighed. "Yeah. Sprout, we know."

"You mean it's true?" Alan asked, horrified.

"'Fraid so, kiddo," John agreed.

"But . . . but . . . he kept saying how Dad stole Mom, and that it was all Dad's fault . . ." Alan protested, upset.

"Hey, _that_ was a lie," Scott said firmly. "Come on, Sprout, you know that. This guy's just insane. He just wants to get Mom back into his life, and what better way than through her children?"

Alan settled down slightly, but his expression still showed his unhappiness. "I want to go home now."

"We know, Alan, we know," John said, feeling anger at their situation welling up inside of him. "We do, too."

All three tensed as Chris and Luke suddenly returned. Chris pointed his gun at John. "We've just been discussing our new situation, and we've come to a decision."

"Glad to hear it," Alan retorted.

"Alan, be quiet," Scott whispered.

"Three Tracys will slow us down on the way to our next home," Chris continued. "I'm afraid two of you have to go."

"No!" Alan shouted.

Scott pushed Alan over into John and stood in between his brothers and the gun. "Listen, no one's died yet," he stated. "Do you really want to add murder to everything else you've done?"

Chris cocked the hammer of his gun.

"Then just kill me," Scott said quickly. "Spare my brothers."

"No!" Alan yelled again.

"Scott!" John cried, holding onto Alan to keep the younger boy from jumping up.

Chris shrugged. "Fine by me." He lifted the gun, pointing it right at Scott's head. Scott drew himself to his full height, meeting his uncle's eyes fearlessly.

John held his breath, forcing Alan to turn away. He could feel Alan's hot tears soak into his shirt on his shoulder, and felt them echoed in his own eyes.

A loud crash filled the tensed silence. Alan cried out and clutched at John, certain that he had just heard the end of his eldest brother's life. Scott ducked at the sound as something round and silver spun through the air, connecting with the gun and knocking it out of Chris' hand.

Chris let out a cry of rage and turned to chase after his gun when a solid force crashed into him, sending him to the ground.

Scott wrapped his arms protectively around John and Alan, unsure as to what was happening but determined to keep his brothers safe. He watched as two more figures burst into the room and tackled Luke to the ground.

The figures who had subdued Luke suddenly stood and headed for the figure grappling with Chris. A patch of moonlight fell over their faces as they crossed the room.

"Gordon! Virgil!" Scott exclaimed, rising.

His brothers didn't respond as they helped pull Chris to his feet. The last figure stood, and Scott recognized his father.

"Dad!" John called.

Alan's head swung around, searching for his father. Hope filled his tear-stained face as his eyes fell on Jeff Tracy. "Dad!"

"Alan!" Leaving Chris with Gordon and Virgil, Jeff crossed the room and knelt down, pulling Alan into a tight embrace. With a free hand, he reached out and squeezed John's shoulder.

Sounds of a struggle pulled Jeff out of the hug sooner than he would have liked. Gordon's alarmed cry brought him to his feet and spinning around just as Chris shook off his sons' restraining hands.

"This is all _your_ fault, Tracy!" Chris bellowed. "You took her away, and you're doing it again!"

"You pushed her away, Soble!" Jeff shot back, heat rushing to his cheeks. "Do you honestly think you could bring her back by torturing my son?"

Chris' eyes dropped down to Alan, who knelt on the ground behind Jeff. "You brought it on yourself!" he shouted at the boy. "I didn't want to do it! You made me! And now it's all ruined! I'll kill you!"

He took a step in Alan's direction, causing the boy to flinch.

He never made it any farther. Gordon, Virgil, Scott, and Jeff all jumped forward, taking Chris to the ground as John pulled Alan behind him. Chris was shouting obscenities, bucking against the Tracy men's hands. Finally fed up, Jeff cocked a fist and threw it at Chris with as much force as he could.

Jeff's fist struck Chris in the chin, causing his head to snap back. He fell to the ground, out cold.

"Nice shot, Dad," Gordon said admiringly.

"Thanks." Jeff stood, rubbing his aching knuckles. "Let's tie him and his son up and get the hell out of here."

As Gordon and Virgil set about doing just that, Jeff turned to Scott and pulled him into a fierce hug. Surprised, Scott returned the embrace.

"Dad?" he asked.

"When I saw him point that gun at you, I thought we were too late," Jeff admitted softly. "I'm just glad you're all right."

"Dad!"

Jeff released Scott in time to welcome Alan back into his arms. "Alan! Are you all right"

"I'm fine," Alan replied, holding onto his father tightly. "Can we go home now, Dad? Please?"

Jeff smiled and gently ruffled Alan's hair. "Yeah, Sprout. We can go home now."


	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jeff asked his youngest son.

Alan nodded. "Yeah, Dad, I'm sure."

It had been three days since Jeff and his sons had rescued Alan from Chris Soble. At first, Alan had been very clingy, not wanting to be left alone for too long. His brothers hadn't minded, preferring to keep a close eye on the youngest Tracy while he healed from his ordeal.

While his sons traded stories from that night, Alan had learned of Elliot's help. None of his other sons had noticed, but Alan had grown thoughtful. It wasn't until late the night before that Alan had approached his father and asked to speak with Elliot. Jeff had tried to ask why Alan wanted to speak with his estranged cousin, but Alan had merely explained that it was something he needed to do.

Jeff and Alan walked into the conference room of the Boston police department, where Chris and his sons were being held while they awaited trial. Elliot was already there, clad in orange coveralls. He looked up at the Tracys' entrance, trying to smile a greeting.

"Hi," he said nervously.

Alan stood in front of the table where Elliot sat. "Hi."

Jeff nodded, hovering protectively behind his son.

Elliot glanced up at Jeff, then looked at Alan. "They said you wanted to talk to me."

Alan nodded. "I wanted to say thank you. If you hadn't told my dad where to find me, my brothers would be dead now."

Elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I really am sorry for what I did. I hope you can believe that."

Alan stared at Elliot for a long moment. "Do you really believe everything your dad said about my dad?"

Elliot shrugged. "I don't know. My dad always talked about how Jeff Tracy took his sister from him. I don't remember Aunt Lucy very well, but I spoke with her a couple of times. From what I do remember, it's hard for me to believe that anyone could make her do anything she didn't want to do."

Alan smiled. "That sounds right."

Elliot returned the smile. "Listen, Alan . . . I don't know if you can ever forgive me and my family for what we've done to you, but . . . for what it's worth . . . I'm sorry."

Alan looked down at the table. "I may not understand why your dad did what he did, but I can understand how much he misses my mom. I miss her too."

A warm hand gently squeezed Alan's shoulder. Alan looked back at his father and met Jeff's understanding gaze.

"Well, my dad was right about one thing," Elliot said, drawing Alan's eyes back to him. "You're a lot like your mom."

Alan and Jeff bid farewells and left the room, heading out of the police station. As they continued to walk down the street, Jeff draped one arm around his son's shoulders.

"Feel better?" he asked.

Alan nodded, looking down at his feet. "I think so."

He felt his father's inquiring gaze on him and hurried to elaborate. "Chris may have been a bad man, but deep down he must have loved Mom very much. Do you think he'll ever come to terms with her dying?"

"I wish I had an answer for you, son," Jeff replied softly, hugging Alan to him. "He's never been all right with anything in his life. As much as I can't forgive him for what he's done to you, I have to agree with him on one point."

Alan turned quizzical eyes onto his father. "Really?"

Jeff nodded, smiling fondly at Alan. "You are most definitely just like your mother."

The End


End file.
